Brotherly Bonding
by Darkfire75
Summary: IreEng. Ireland and England are tired of fighting each other. Based on an RP with my friend.


_**Author's note:**__ 8DDD This is based around an RP I had with my friend who has a male OC for Ireland. It started off with some arguing, but it eventually ended up...like this. I did add some things (like with Scotland and Wales), but most of it is from the RP. There's a fanartist whose Scotland and Wales designs I think of when I write them, but I use different human names for them ^^;_

_Patrick = Scotland_  
_Gareth = Wales_

_Oh...and...I AM SO SORRY BUT I CANNOT WRITE IRISH OR SCOTTISH ACCENTS AT ALL. I figured I could try, but... *hides in a corner of shame* ;_;_

* * *

"Aren't ye sick of fightin'?"

England looked over at his brother with a raised eyebrow as they relaxed on the grass under the night sky. "What do you mean?"

The red-head shrugged his shoulders. "I mean...don't ye just wanna...stop?"

"Erin, what the bloody hell are you on about?"

Ireland's face erupted a nice shade of red. "I'm just tryin' to be nice, boyo. But if you're too much of an arse to be nice in return-"

"Oi." England felt his face heat up. "I can be nice."

"Pfft. Oh yeah."

"I can!"

Ireland laughed, pounding his younger brother on the back. "Sure, Arthur."

"I'm serious!" England pouted. "Look...I'm...sorry for always being a miserable bastard. There. I was nice."

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

"A little bit."

Laughing again, Ireland wrapped an arm around England's shoulder. "And I'm sorry I always threw shite at your head when we were little. See? We made progress."

"This is stupid," he grumbled.

"Gettin' along with your brother is stupid, is it?" Ireland narrowed his eyes. "Well fine. I'll just leave then." He made to stand up from the grass, but a hand on his wrist stopped him. England's face was turned away, but Ireland could see the small blush across his face. "What, boyo?"

"Don't leave," he said softly. "You're right. It's...actually nice being able to talk and not fight for once."

Ireland smiled and ruffled his brother's hair. "Glad ye see it my way." He looked up at the night sky once again and slowly laid himself down on the grass, hands behind his head. "I bet ye things would be different if that bloody Rome hadn't taken ye."

England followed his gaze before lowering himself beside his brother. "I...never told anyone...but I missed you lot when he took me away..."

Ireland looked over at him sadly. "We missed ye too, boyo. Celt tried so hard to get ye back..."

"He did?"

"Aye. Tough bloke, he was. But then Pat went next, and then Gareth. And he lost it."

Ireland felt an arm wrap around his midsection and glanced down, seeing England curling up to his side. He smiled faintly, feeling as if they were children again and he was whispering Celtic lullabies to help his baby brother fall asleep.

"Yer a good lad," he mumbled, patting England's head.

"I'm a spoiled brat," England retorted.

"Well, that too."

England sighed heavily. "I miss...actually having you around." His hold on Ireland tightened and he lifted himself so that he could lay his head on his chest.

Confused, but not about to throw him off, Ireland replied, "Yer not tryin' to get me to join the Union again, eh?"

"No." He saw a tiny smirk on England's face. "I'm just-"

"I know, boyo. I'm only teasin' ye." He stroked the blonde's hair softly, smiling when England cuddled closer to him. "Suddenly comfortable around me now, are ye?"

"Shut up," he groaned. "You're warm. That's all."

"Sure." They remained like that for a while, enjoying each other's company for once. "It's hard," Ireland said suddenly.

"What is?"

"Our fuckin' relationship. I'm always confused as to whether I love ye or hate ye." England tensed up, listening to his brother's heart beat. "I'm not makin' much sense, am I?"

England turned his head away. "No, I understand."

"It's not fair," Ireland growled. "Why should we have to always hate each other? Ye've done some stupid shite in the past, but it's in the bloody _past_, isn't it? It shouldn't matter now."

"What are you saying, Erin?"

"I'm sayin' that I bloody love ye!"

It took Ireland a few moments to realize the magnitude of what he'd just said. His face turned red, almost as red as his hair and he looked anywhere but at his brother. England's eyes widened as he sat up and stared down at him, his own cheeks bright pink.

"F-Forget I said that!" Ireland cried, more embarrassed than he had ever felt in his entire life.

"Why should I?" England asked, stubbornly defiant. He'd never heard his brother say he loved him before. He would never admit it, but the little brother in him was happy.

"Bloody hell, I didn't mean for it to sound so damn corny..."

England smiled slightly. "It wasn't corny at all."

"Yeah, yeah." Ireland sat up, face still very red. He thought a moment and then surprised England even more as he wrapped his arms around him and hugged him to his chest. Shocked, the Englishman slowly embraced him in return. Ireland pulled back with a grin, then kissed England's forehead. "Such a damn brat," he laughed.

"Erin...?" England had never seen his brother this affectionate. Not with Scotland, not with Wales, and certainly never with him.

"Speechless, Arthur? Did I really surprise ye that much?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Well, I know neither of us is gonna mention this to the others. Why not actually be brothers for once?"

England frowned as he sat back. "It's all just very odd."

"Damn, we really screwed ye up, didn't we?" Ireland raised a hand to touch his brother's cheek. "If we'd all been better brothers to ye, I reckon things would be different."

"Probably," he said. "But then we wouldn't have this moment at all." He offered a small smile, one that Ireland returned, albeit nervously.

Ireland didn't know what he was doing when he pulled England closer again, very lightly kissing his cheek before swiftly pressing his lips against England's. England pulled back instantly, green eyes wide.

"Erin?" He touched his lips in shock.

"Shit!" Ireland growled, blushing angrily. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that! Fuckin'...I'll go. I shouldn't a' done that..."

Worried that his brother would leave, England shook his head and put his hands on Ireland's face, making him look at him. "It's all right," he whispered.

"No it isn't! I kissed ye, Arthur!"

"Yes. And?"

"And? Blimey, are ye that thick, boyo? Brothers aren't supposed to do that!"

England leaned in, pressing his mouth against Ireland's. The older male made a startled cry but eventually succumbed, wrapping his arms around England's waist. He ran his tongue along England's lips, tasting them. England moaned softly and pressed against him more. Ireland's hands went to work unbuttoning his brother's shirt, caressing the flesh that was revealed.

Pulling back from the kiss, England took deep breaths and stared into the other's pale green eyes. "Are you sure you want to...?"

Ireland was feeling a mixture of want and doubt. The past was hard to forget, but for some reason, he knew this time would be different. He was doing it of his own free will, not because they were merely nations, but because he really and truly cared for England as a man. "Aye," he said softly. "Just promise me one thing, all right?"

England nodded. "What's that?"

"Just...don't try to take me over, okay?" A bit of boyish nervousness showed but he kept his hold on Arthur, not letting the distance get wider.

Laughing, England replied, "I promise." He rested his forehead against Ireland's gently.

Ireland grinned and leaned in to kiss him again, this time with more confidence. His tongue played with the other's as he held England, sliding his hand up the half-opened shirt. England moaned and pressed against him more, obviously not objecting. Ireland's mouth left his brother's lips, traveling down to his neck as he worked to remove England's shirt.

Giving a pleased sigh, England wrapped his arms around him and started playing with the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck. The red-head smirked and slowly peeled off England's shirt, kissing the exposed skin gently, sucking on a few spots on his neck and chest. "Now you," he purred.

"W-What?" England blushed, feeling extremely unattractive as he was exposed. He let out a groan when Ireland sucked on his sensitive skin.

"Well, if ye'd prefer me to do this with my clothes _on_." He smirked and stopped kissing him, his eyes playfully laughing.

England's eyes widened once he realized what he meant. "Oh." Then he grinned and leaned in to start licking and sucking at his brother's neck while simultaneously working to remove Ireland's shirt. Ireland let out a pleased moan, eyes watching him intently. He let his hand reach around and stroke England's spine, moving down to the edge of his pants. England managed to lift the shirt off, smiling at him before going back to kiss his collarbone. He felt the hand moving down his back and shivered.

Ireland captured his lips again as he worked his way through the other man's trousers, slowing sliding them off his hips, along with his underwear, until everything was in full view. He spent a moment staring down at England's erection, a grin forming on his lips. "Ha ha, now this hasn't changed..."

England punched his shoulder, blushing furiously. "Don't be an arse!"

"Although I won't be the one feelin' it tonight," he sneered. His smirk was good natured but still a smirk as he let his hands trace England's thighs and hips. "Yer turn..."

Trembling, England reached out to unzip Ireland's pants, pulling them down and off as well as the underwear. He blushed even more than before, turning his head away. Ireland laughed and hooked a finger under his chin. "What's there to be nervous about, boyo?" he teased, lifting his brother's hand and placing it around his cock. "Ye've seen it before..." England yelped, trying to pull his hand back, which only resulted in a pleased groan erupting from Ireland's throat.

"Y-Yes, but that was under different circumstances..."

Ireland laughed and kissed him, pulling him up against him, no clothing as an obstacle now. England eagerly kissed him back, lifting his hand off the other's organ. "Oh? Ye mean when I was one of yer toys?" He smirked and ran his hands along the smaller body before him. "I think yer enjoyin' this, Arthur..."

"A-Aaaah...stop teasing me..." He arched his back, trembling from all the different sensations.

"Why? Ye liked to tease and be teased, don't ye?" He adjusted his legs, pulling England into his lap. Their cocks touched, causing both men to groan, as Ireland wrapped an arm around England to steady him. He nibbled at the blonde's earlobe and sucked at the skin underneath it, knowing it was a sensitive spot. Sure enough, England let out a breathless sigh. "Have ye thought about this before?" he whispered against his ear.

"M-Maybe," England replied, resting his arms on Ireland's shoulders.

"No maybes," he snarled, "yes or no." He moved his hips slightly as he started sucking on England's neck again. He reached a hand down and grabbed both of their throbbing cocks and began stroking them together with long, slow strokes.

England gasped and bucked his hips. "Y-Yes...!" he cried out, eyes widening.

Ireland moved his hand slowly, kissing his brother with each stroke. Their tongues danced together. He let his other hand reach down and begin rubbing the skin around England's inner thigh. He heard the intake of breath and grinned, moving his hand lower and lower until he felt the ball sack. He cupped England gently before rolling it in his calloused hand, causing him to moan loudly.

"Oh g-god!" England rocked back and forth on his lap, unable to comprehend that his brother was making him feel so good.

Ireland looked down and noticed how much pre-cum had coated his hand, making his strokes go faster. He kissed England again, smirking at the nice marks he had made along his neck. He'd have to hide those in the morning. Realizing just how sensitized England was now, he grunted out, "All right." He stopped stroking, stopped massaging his balls, and gently lifted England up by his hips.

He brought a finger up to his mouth and sucked on it for a minute before bringing it around and slowly slipping it inside the other man. England cried out, clinging to him desperately. Ireland held him in place as he curled the finger inside of him. "I know it hurts, Arthur," he mumbled, sticking a second finger in. "But I can't just slide into ye without some preparation." He started to scissor him, loving how each time he managed to hit something good, England would buck against him. Once he was sure England was ready, he pulled his fingers out and pressed his cockhead at the entrance. The pre-cum made it slick enough, so he was able to sink in, almost to the hilt. He groaned, resting his forehead on England's chest.

England screamed, trying to adjust to having the other man, his _brother_, push inside him. He took deep breaths and clung to Ireland tightly. Ireland stopped moving once he was buried inside, holding England in place and kissing him softly. The Englishman moaned into the kiss and began moving his hips. In turn, Ireland started moving his own, one hand holding England's hip, the other holding the back of his head as he kissed him deeply, panting into his mouth as their loving-making began.

A purr nearly escaped England's mouth as they kissed. Stars flew across his vision as Ireland pushed in and out of him. "_Arthur_," Ireland moaned, thrusting a few more times before wrapping an arm around England's waist. He laid him on his back on the grass, continuing to thrust into him as deeply as he could go.

"E-Erin...!" England threw his arms around Ireland's neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. He then buried his face into the crook of his neck. He could feel the pleasure settling inside him. He was almost there.

"Y-Yeah..." Ireland reached down to stroke his brother in time with his thrusts. He pinched the head of his cock, which resulted in England whining and tossing his head from side to side. _He's so bloody beautiful_, Ireland thought with a smile. He grunted as his thrusts and strokes gained speed. He pushed completely in and out, panting as he felt himself aching with need to release.

England felt his cock hit his prostate repeatedly. He gasped for breath, arching his spine up off the ground, wrapping his weakened legs around his brother's hips as they moved. "C-Cumming...!" he cried, feeling the familiar white hot sensation. He released all over Ireland's hand and their stomachs, panting heavily and trying to ride out his orgasm for as long as he could.

Panting as he felt England's walls tightening around him, he gave one final thrust, and spilled himself inside. He rocked against his brother a few more times, and milked England's cock with his hand before letting go. He moaned in satisfaction before leaning down and kissing him.

England kissed him back, shivering from the aftershocks of his orgasm. "T-That was..." He smiled and blushed, turning his head to the side.

"Was what?" Ireland winked with smile of his own, thrusting one final time before pulling out slowly. England whined softly. He leaned back on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

England used his elbows to lift himself up. He leaned forward and kissed him again. "It was amazing," he whispered.

"Yer just sayin' that."

"I'm serious, Erin."

Ireland blushed. "Well, uh, yer welcome then." He stood up, reaching for his discarded clothes. "It's late. Should probably get goin'..." England nodded and tried to stand up, but groaned. "Ye all right?"

"My arse," he muttered, wincing a bit.

Ireland laughed. "Was a little rough, eh?" He zipped his pants back on and bent down to help lift England to his feet. "Sorry, boyo."

England leaned against him. "Looks like you'll have to take me home, Erin," he sighed, though he was smirking.

The red-head blinked before returning the smirk with his own. "Aye. If ye insist, ye helpless git."

* * *

Perhaps staying the night hadn't been Ireland's brightest idea, but once he'd gotten England back home, the Englishman had shoved him up against the door and began kissing him hungrily. It wasn't like his brother had really given him a choice. Now he found himself on his stomach in England's bed, sucking England's cock for all it was worth. The sounds his baby brother was making were driving him mad.

"M-More," England gasped, tangling his fingers in his red hair.

Ireland licked the slit and then engulfed him again. England moaned his name a few more times. His attention was solely on pleasuring England, doing his very best to make him orgasm. He heard the faint sound of a door opening, but ignored it. England let out a sudden gasp and then came, shooting himself down his throat. Ireland drank what he could, licking his lips as he moved out from between England's legs. He leaned in to kiss him but then noticed the horrified look on his face. Confused, Ireland looked over his shoulder and felt himself pale.

Scotland and Wales were standing in the doorway, both staring at them with wide eyes.

"What the fuck?" Scotland cried, rushing to hit one of them. Wales held him back, though he looked just as murderous.

"Pat, calm down!" Ireland snapped.

"I won't! He's tryin' to make ye join the Union again, isn't he? I won't let the little brat do it!"

"I'm not!" England shouted back, covering his privates with his blankets. "We were just—"

"He was bloody suckin' ye off, we saw!"

"He's not making me join the Union!" Ireland roared. He stood up from the bed, glaring at Scotland. "I was with Arthur because I _wanted_ to be."

"Bullshite," Scotland growled. "Gare, let me go!"

"If I do, will you hit Arthur?" the smaller, burlier man asked.

"Damn straight I will."

"Then I can't let you go."

"Just listen to us, Patrick!" England hissed. "I-It happened by accident!"

"Oh, so yer prick just happened to slip into Erin's mouth 'accidentally'?"

Both England and Ireland blushed.

"Ye both disgust me," Scotland spat. He shoved Ireland to the floor, glaring down at him. Not one to ignore a challenge, Ireland tackled him and started throwing punches and kicks. Wales and England stared at them for a moment before locking gazes.

"Explain. Now," Wales hissed.

"Erin and I were alone last night," England said quickly, watching Ireland land a punch to Scotland's eye. "And we started talking and...and things just...evolved."

"You mean you shagged?"

England nodded, feeling his eldest brother's hard gaze on him. "We didn't mean for it to happen," he added. "It just did."

Wales sighed heavily, bringing a hand up to rub his temples. "This is a hell of a way for us to find out," he groaned. "All right, you two, break it up!" He kicked Scotland off Ireland and stood between them.

"Gare, move!" Scotland tried to move around his much stockier brother.

"Listen to 'em, Pat," he said coolly.

"I don't wanna listen to 'em!" He turned his heated glare on England. "This is yer fault, ye bastard!" He lunged onto the bed, but England was prepared and sent a well-aimed kick between his legs. Scotland screamed and curled up on the bed, holding his crotch. "Dammit..."

Ireland was laughing. "Now that Arthur's immobilized ye for the rest of the day, will ye listen?"

Scotland scowled at him, but his pride was already damaged.

"Arthur and I, we shagged last night," Ireland said. "I promised no one would ever find out, but everyone always knows somethin' in our messed up family."

"Why?" Scotland wheezed out.

"Because I love the damn bastard." Ireland pulled England out of the bed and hugged him, surprising everyone else in the room.

There was a long pause. Scotland carefully tried to sit up. "Those yer marks on his arse, Erin?" he asked cheekily.

England blushed. "Stop staring at it!"

"Well it's right there, Artie."

"So," Wales said suddenly. "What now?"

"I should probably get back to me house," Ireland sighed. He looked around for his shirt and pulled it on.

England sat back on the bed with a frown. "You'll keep in touch?"

"Nah, I'll just ignore ye for another decade. Of course I'll keep in touch!" He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "Don't miss me too much, boyo."

"Who would?" England teased. Once Ireland had left, Scotland and Wales continued to stare at their youngest brother. "Wot?" he growled.

"Sooooo," Scotland said with a smirk, "how'd it feel?"

A spell book was swiftly chucked at him, knocking him clear off the side of the bed.

* * *

_(Take out the spaces when you copy/paste the links)_

_**My friend's Ireland OC:**_

_http:/ / i185. photobucket. com/albums/ x152/CrimsonAlchemist75/ TabiIreland .jpg_

_And these are NOT my designs, but this is how both Scotland and Wales look in the fic._

_**Scotland:**_

_http:/ /i185. photobucket. com/albums/x152/CrimsonAlchemist75/ scotland .png_

_**Wales:**_

_http:/ /i185. photobucket. com/albums/x152/CrimsonAlchemist75/ wales .png_

_**Also, I mentioned Celt here, and I mean Papa Celt (my friend's other OC): **_

_http:/ /tabikat. deviantart .com/art/ APH-Papa-Celt-131618785 _


End file.
